Waiting in line, anticipating your turn.
It can be the take-a-number line at the DMV, or the youngest child waiting for her first high school dance. There’s tiptoe looking ahead, wondering what’s just beyond the door, or in front of the other bobbing backs of heads.
At the same time, once your time is up, once it is your turn, then you know. You are privy to the secret. It is no longer a mystery whether or not they let you wear your headband in your license picture, or how many slow dances they actually play at Homecoming.
You’re in, the wait is over, and life is different.
So much anticipation, maybe even a little pushing and shoving along the way. I’m thinking today that it might be a good idea to experience the line, really be there and sit in it before it’s gone.
I know there will be other lines to wait in, but I’ve rushed through a lot of them in my life. Huffed and puffed only to go bounding through the door, sure that what was at the front of the line was best. Missing what might have been gained, learned, in the waiting.
Pushing for the front is good, it drives us, but most of our time is spent in the actual line.
Once your number is called, once it’s your turn, it’s over in a blink. Kind of like Thanksgiving, all that cooking and table setting and then it’s your turn and then…dishes.
If you don’t take a minute to laugh with the ones you love, dance with the turkey, taste the gravy for salt, catch a peek at the parade and then the dog show, there’s really no point to the whole business. Thanksgiving is the ultimate line, the magic is in the lead up.
Lines don’t need to be a pain, or an inconvenience. The bulk of life is the line, so it’s probably best to bring a cup of tea, a good book, and slow down. There’s no need to hem and haw, squirm about, or complain that I will “just never get through this line.”
I will. We’ll all get there soon enough.
My thoughts from the laundry room. Reaching REM.